recognizable as important or valuable. He found one small bowl of unusual design glazed with bright colored figures on the sides, and he put it inside his tunic.
Pug stood quietly, for something in the cabin commanded his attention. A strange, urgent feeling had overtaken him as soon as he had stepped in.
The wreck lurched, throwing Tomas off balance. He caught himself on a chest, dropping the sword. ‘The ship’s lifting. We’d better go.’
Pug didn’t answer, his attention focused on the strange sensations. Tomas grabbed his arm. ‘Come on. The ship’ll break up in a minute.’
Pug shook his hand off. ‘A moment. There is something …’ His voice trailed off. Abruptly he crossed the disordered room and pulled open a drawer in a latched chest. It was empty. He yanked open another, then a third. In it was the object of his search. He drew out a rolled parchment with a black ribbon and black seal on it and thrust it into his shirt.
‘Come on,’ he shouted as he passed Tomas. They raced up the ladder and scrambled over the deck. The tide had raised the ship high enough for them to pull themselves up to the ledge with ease, and they turned to sit.
The ship was now floating on the tide, rocking forward and back, while the waves sent a wet spray into the boys’ faces. They watched as the bow slid off the rocks, timbers breaking with a loud and deep tearing sound, like a dying moan. The bow lifted high, and the boys were splashed by waves striking the cliffs below their ledge.
Out to sea the hulk floated, slowly leaning over to its port side, until the outward surging tide came to a halt.
Ponderously, it started back toward the rocks. Tomas grabbed at Pug’s arm, signaling him to follow. They got up and made their way back to the beach. When they reached the place where the rock overhung the sand, they jumped down.
A loud grinding sound made them turn to see the hull driven onto the rocks. Timbers shattered, and separated with a shriek. The hull heaved to starboard, and debris started sliding off the deck into the sea.
Suddenly Tomas reached over and caught Pug’s arm. ‘Look.’ He pointed at the wreck sliding backward on the tide.
Pug couldn’t make out what he was pointing at. ‘What is it?’
‘I thought for a moment there was only one body on deck.’
Pug looked at him. Tomas’s face was set in an expression of worry. Abruptly it changed to anger. ‘Damn!’
‘What?’
‘When I fell in the cabin, I dropped the sword. Fannon will have my ears.’
A sound like an explosion of thunder marked the final destruction of the wreck as the tide smashed it against the cliff face. Now the shards of the once fine, if alien, ship would be swept out to sea, to drift back in along the coast for miles to the south over the next few days.
A low groan ending in a sharp cry made the boys turn. Standing behind them was the missing man from the ship, the strange broadsword held loosely in his left hand and dragging in the sand. His right arm was held tightly against his side; blood could be seen running from under his blue breastplate, and from under his helmet. He took a staggering step forward. His face was ashen, and his eyes wide with pain and confusion. He shouted something incomprehensible at the boys. They stepped back slowly, raising their hands to show they were unarmed.
He took another step toward them, and his knees sagged. He staggered erect and closed his eyes for a moment. He was short and stocky, with powerfully muscled arms and legs. Below the breastplate he wore a short skirt of blue cloth. On his forearms were bracers, and on his legs, greaves that looked like leather, above thonged sandals. He put his hand to his face and shook his head. His eyes opened, and he regarded the boys again. Once more he spoke in his alien tongue. When the boys said nothing, he appeared to grow angry and yelled another series of strange words, from the tone seemingly questions.
Pug gauged the distance necessary to run past the man, who blocked the narrow strip of beach. He decided it wasn’t worth the risk of finding out if the man was in a condition to use that wicked-looking sword. As if sensing the boy’s thoughts, the soldier staggered a few feet to his right, cutting off any escape. He closed his eyes again, and what little color there was in his face drained away. His gaze began to wander, and the sword slipped from limp fingers. Pug started to take a step toward him, for it was now obvious that he could do them no harm.
As he neared the man, shouts sounded up the beach. Pug and Tomas saw Prince Arutha riding before a troop of horsemen. The wounded soldier turned his head painfully at the sound of approaching horses, and his eyes widened. A look of pure horror crossed his face, and he tried to flee. He took three staggering steps toward the water and fell forward into the sand.
Pug stood near the door of the Duke’s council chamber. Several feet away a concerned group sat at Duke Borric’s round council table. Besides the Duke and his sons, Father Tully, Kulgan, who had returned only an hour before, Swordmaster Fannon, and Horsemaster Algon sat in assembly. The tone was serious, for the arrival of the alien ship was viewed as potentially dangerous to the Kingdom.
Pug threw a quick glance at Tomas, standing on the opposite side of the door. Tomas had never been in the presence of nobility, other than serving in the dining hall, and being in the Duke’s council chamber was making him nervous. Master Fannon spoke, and Pug returned his attention to the table.
‘Reviewing what we know,’ said the old Swordmaster, ‘it is obvious that these people are completely alien to us.’ He picked up the bowl Tomas had taken from the ship. ‘This bowl is fashioned in a way unknown to our Masterpotter. At first he thought it was simply a fired and glazed clay, but upon closer inspection it proved otherwise. It is fashioned from some sort of hide, parchment-thin strips being wound around a mold – perhaps wood – then laminated with resins of some type. It is much stronger than anything we know.’
To demonstrate, he struck the bowl hard against the table. Instead of shattering, as a clay bowl would have, it made a dull sound. ‘Now, even more perplexing are these weapons and armor.’ He pointed to the blue breastplate, helmet, sword, and dagger. ‘They appear to be fashioned in a similar manner.’ He lifted the dagger and let it drop. It made the same dull sound as the bowl. ‘For all its lightness, it is nearly as strong as our best steel.’
Borric nodded. ‘Tully, you’ve been around longer than any of us. Have you heard of any ship constructed like that?’
‘No.’ Tully absently stroked his beardless chin. ‘Not from the Bitter Sea, the Kingdom Sea, or even from Great Kesh have I heard of such a ship. I might send word to the Temple of Ishap in Krondor. They have records that go further back than any others. Perhaps they have some knowledge of these people.’
The Duke nodded. ‘Please do. Also we must send word to the elves and dwarves. They have abided here longer than we by ages, and we would do well to seek their wisdom.’
Tully indicated agreement. ‘Queen Aglaranna might have knowledge of these people if they are travelers from across the Endless Sea. Perhaps they have visited these shores before.’
‘Preposterous,’ snorted Horsemaster Algon. ‘There are no nations across the Endless Sea. Otherwise it wouldn’t be endless.’
Kulgan took on an indulgent expression. ‘There are theories that other lands exist across the Endless Sea. It is only that we have no ships capable of making such a long journey.’
‘Theories,’
